Disarm
by lilykane
Summary: We would all like to believe that we're the masters of our fates, but Miang Hawwa and Citan Uzuki wonder if that's possible.


**Disarm**

_~Disclaimer: All characters in this story are owned by Squaresoft. If anyone's offended by this, I apologize right now for the sick notions that run rampant through my overactive imagination.~_

She didn't go home right away like she knew that should have. Somehow the thought of returning to her apartment didn't appeal to her tonight, though she had been out much too long. There were too many things that were bothering her at that time. 

Maybe it was working with him, with Krelian, that idealistic bastard that hovered over her at the labs and confined in her at night. He was often the reason that she came home late, but Kahr had adjusted to that, and seemingly, he understood everything that had happened and was happening to her. She walked past the building that she was staying in. 

She stopped and turned her head back. She needed to go home but... Her eyes shifted to the artificial sky above; it was a deep navy blue, but it didn't hold any of the magnificence of a real horizon. No stars ever glittered there. It was just a sheet of blue, flawless but flawed. 

"Do you realize how beautiful you are?" Krelian had whispered to her before she had left. "Do you realize that you're the only one that can help me realize my dreams, to make what I need real?" She swallowed hard at those words came back to her. His crystalline blue eyes had stared drunkenly at her; she had never been able to look Krelian in eyes even before "she" had been awakened so suddenly. Tonight had not been any different, but yet when he had touched her, his hands stroking and fondling her as he kissed her, she shuttered out of disgust. Not toward him, but toward herself. 

The lights of a store that she was walking past flickered then went out as the owner darkened the windows to indicate that it was closing time. Soon after, another store did, and then an inn, and so forth. 

She stood still in darkness, as the world fell asleep. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. How did everything turn out like this? Why was she so miserable now of all times? 

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Hyuga Ricdeau's face drifted into her mind. She had loved his warm smile and gentle voice. She had loved everything about him. "We'll leave together from this place, and you'll never be hurt again. I love you..." 

Then she remembered the very last time she had saw him and the wedding band on his finger. And he had said nothing to her; he just walked past her. His face was stony and unreadable. He left without her. 

". . .A love that is unattainable for you. . ." Words that were familiar yet she had never heard them before. She hated that. When memories of the others before her surfaced. It wasn't fair to her or to those women that had died being something that they weren't. And soon, she would be just like the rest of them, no matter how much Krelian told her that he loved her or that he needed her. She would be just another stepping stone. But that voice that had spoken was painfully right. Love was something that would always be out of reach for her. And no matter how she would run after it, she would never grasp it. 

It was a foolish wish to be loved. It was foolish to think that someone created for the sole purpose of hosting another soul, if it can even be called a soul, could ever find happiness. She chuckled a bit at the thought that she had even considered running away form Solaris. Then she laughed at the thought that she was going to run away with Hyuga of all people. She laughed until it hurt, and she drew her fist up to her mouth; she nervously bit down on her knuckle, and it was then she realized that she was crying. 

She lifted her palm up to wipe away the tears, but it was harder than she imagined. She wanted to cry; she needed to feel something real, and if bitterness was that reality, then she was ready for it. She looked up again; the sky had turned from navy to black. She looked behind her; no lights from any of the buildings. She slowly turned around and began to go home. 

It was all a blur going home; she faintly remembered the trip, but not really enough to care. It was dark; that was all that mattered. It was blurry just like the majority of her life had been. Her face was still tear streaked, and she brought up a hand to wipe them away. 

"He's probably not up anyway," she thought to herself. "It's not like he cares." The door opened. 

As she expected, every light was out. She laughed to herself again. He didn't care. She lightly pressed her hand against a panel on the wall; the light in the kitchen came on. She walked past the dining room toward the light. 

"Hi." She stopped, and turned her head in surprise. She turned on the dining room light, and there sat Kahr. His face had that stern look that she was used to on it, but it looked relieved as well. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and was fiddling with a letter opener as he sat at the dining room table. He then smiled at her. 

He looked like a child when he smiled, and his messy hair added to that. She quickly walked pasted him. He wasn't real. He would never be real to her, and he knew that. Why he kept trying was beyond her. 

"I knew that you were going to be late, but I went ahead and made dinner." She kept walking as after he said that. "It's in the fridge; I thought that maybe you'd appreciate it." 

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry right now," she retorted coolly, keeping her back to him. Kahr looked down at the letter opener. 

He looked back up, "Miang, I was beginning to think that you weren't coming home." She stopped. He stood up and carefully laid the letter opener on the table. "I would understand if you didn't one night." 

She didn't reply. 

He stood up, and as he walked out of the room, he turned off the dining room light. As he strolled pasted her, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead and affectionately stroked her head once. 

*****

  
Maybe he had been wrong. He had been many times wrong. And through his stony silence, he would admit it. The face of warmth and compassion was completely different when he was alone with her. His glasses came off, and Hyuga, or rather Citan Uzuki, sat quietly at the table in the middle of the tiny home he and his wife shared. 

He could hear Yui in the kitchen, like she always was, cleaning, cooking or whatever the hell she did in there; he had made a conscious choice years ago not to bother her in there. The kitchen was her territory, and he respected that. He squeezed his eyes shut and painfully rubbed his temples as the sounds of pans clanging and water running fizzed in and out of his head. 

So, this was marriage. It was nothing like the warm atmosphere that his parents had created. He faintly recalled the looks and gestures that his mother had given his father. Even after the most heated of quarrels, they made up. They always made up. His eyes blinked opened, and he slumped back in the wood chair that he sat in. That was probably wrong. The past always seemed grander than the present, he reminded himself. 

But even still... Yui hadn't spoken to him in weeks, which was something he should have expected by now. But it was different this time. Somehow, her silence bothered him. He was used to being the quiet one; as she screamed and cried at him, praying that he would listen, he kept his mouth sealed. But this time... 

"Sometimes," she had said in dangerously calm voice, "I feel like you care more about that boy than you do for me or Midori." He had walked out, as he often did to end their fights. Usually, he didn't come home for several days. However, he was only gone for an hour that time. He slunk back in, slumped down in his usual chair, and sulked for the rest of the night. 

He was beginning to wonder if maybe she was right. Though he often kept his relations to people at a professional or acquaintance level, he rather enjoyed the company of the boy, Fei. Fei was rather energetic and talkative, which Citan didn't mind, for once. As the boy would chatter about events that had happened the day before, the doctor would nod and smile. That, and it was necessary that he at least gain the boy's trust. Yui knew that, he told her his reasons. Yet maybe she right. 

The crash of a pan broke Citan's train of thought, and he stood up. Instinctively, he rushed over to the entrance of the kitchen. He stopped short, leaned in the doorway, and crossed his arms as he saw that his wife was still standing up; Yui's back was to him as she stood in front of the stove rigidly. For what seemed like an eternity, he gazed at her until she hunched over the stove and began weeping softly to herself; she was fine. 

"If you weren't so damned insensitive," she murmured to herself. Citan turned his back away. He wanted to say something, but held back instead. 

So, this was marriage. 

*****

  
"Again?" Midori asked softly. Her father nodded and hugged his five year old daughter for what seemed like the thousandth time. He didn't want to let go of her. 

"I'm sorry," he replied; he pulled away and kissed her on the forehead. "I promise, I'll come back to you." He stared lovingly into the wheat colored eyes of the child that stood before him. She looked so much like Yui, yet she was quieter, sometimes just plain apathetic. Citan blamed himself for that, and he was certain that Yui did too. But he loved Midori more than life itself. Many times, the only reason he did come home was to see his little girl's face. 

Citan looked beyond Midori to the charred remains of Lahan village. The frail blackened skeletons of homes brought back memories of his days in the military, and like then, the smell of the burnt flesh and wood sickened him. 

"Why are you helping that...monster?" and elderly woman cried out to the doctor. Citan kissed his daughter one last time and slowly rose up. The survivors stared at him, their eyes asking the same questions. 

He whispered to himself, "It is my duty." 

_Yes, but isn't it your duty to be a father, also? What about being a husband? You gave up on that, haven't you?_ He looked down at his daughter again, avoiding the looks of disapproval. 

Why should he care what these people thought? He had never befriended any of them, and he sure in the hell couldn't tell any most of those people's names off the top of his head. He hated Lahan, anyhow. The women did nothing more than gossip, and the men sat on their porches recalling their lost youth and loves. And he had had to listen to it almost everyday for three years. And all Citan could do was smile and nod as he half listened to the woes of others. 

Never once, did he bring up losing the greatest love of his life in his youth to the other men. In fact, Citan hardly thought of her these days, not like he had when he first married Yui. Somehow, he felt ashamed when Miang ever crossed his mind. He hadn't meant to leave her behind like he had, but what could he do? He messed up, and the truth would had killed anything between them more than staying silent would, as he learned. Silence was indeed golden, when dealing with adultery. He swallowed hard as he realized that he was thinking of her, at this time of all times. 

Miang. If she only knew what she had meant to him then, and what she still meant to him now. She was this faded photograph in his head of what could had been and should had been, that serene smile hidden under her raven hair. He had been happiest with her, when he had a real career and chance to have the life that he had been deprived of as a child. Where did he mess up? He smiled bitterly to himself as he stroked Midori's hair again. Oh, yes. _That._

No, this was meant to be. His destiny was to be miserable and make the ones he loved miserable. No use in complaining now. Not anymore. Not ever again. 

"Dr. Uzuki, why?" the lady asked again. He lifted his head and gazed at the old woman. He let out a heavy sigh, and looked behind him at the ominous black gear that was casting a long, dark shadow over the surviving villagers as the sun rose. 

*****

  
Miang wasn't used the to dry heat during the nights in Aveh, and she paced back in her room; across the hall was Kahr's room. At times like this, and when he was his uniform, Kahr was no longer Kahr; he was "General"... 

_No, he's the Commander in Chief now._ She sighed and stood in front of her bed. Yes, that was right; he had been promoted again. Strangely, when he had told her, he hadn't seemed excited; in fact, he was more bothered by it, if anything. 

Why was she thinking about this now? Most of the trip, she had been preoccupied by Hyuga, hadn't she? 

He was there, in Aveh, she was certain. A few short days ago, she had stood in the one of the front towers of the magnificent Fatima palace, and below, a sea of people cheered and shouted, waiting for their precious festival to begin. And somehow in that roaring mass of people, she saw his face. His eyes were fixated ahead of him to where the main event, a fighter's tournament, would be held. The entire time, her eyes never left where he stood watching. 

He never did look up at her. Of course, he didn't know that she was there, but still... She sighed curled up on her bed. But still, even if he did know, he wouldn't had looked up then, either. 

For hours, she laid in that spot, even though the heat was getting to her. She needed to sleep, but she knew she wouldn't; she hadn't slept well since that day. 

Did Kahr know? She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked out the window; only a few hours ago, there had been fireworks showering the night sky, music playing, and people dancing in the streets, marking the last day of the festival. But now, the streets were completely still. 

With a heavy sigh, she stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it. As she poked her head out the doorway, she glanced both ways, then stepped out in the hallway, and cautiously crept over to Karh's room. 

As the door opened, Kahr lifted his head off of his pillow to see who it was; he sat up, alarmed, when Miang stepped in. 

"Is something wrong?" he asked. She kept her back to the door and carefully latched it shut, then shook her head at him. Her hands them moved to her abdomen, and she looked downed at her feet. Kahr got out of bed and stood in front of her. 

For what felt like eternity, the two of them just stood in silence, until Miang lifted head and gazed at Kahr. 

 Slowly, she peeled her white nightgown of off her body.


End file.
